John F. McCullagh Poems

An old and tattered Bible Is the crux of a dispute.
Bernice King has possession of what her brothers see as loot.
The book was dear to Doctor King thru trials and tribulations
And with him on the Selma march in the days that changed the nation.
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Living on a minor planet near a very average star,
There arose a type of primate, the most inquisitive by far.
Not the strongest or the fastest of the animals on earth,
but blessed with an intelligence that quickly proved its worth.
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I was then but middle-aged, established in my world.
She was a young ingenue, a lithe and lovely girl.
she knew about the ring I wore, the promise it contained,
but we were both the worse for drink and passions were inflamed.
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I remember so well this old oak tree.
There was a swing hung from that limb.
On bright summer days you would swing and sway
waiting for your future to begin.
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I will walk with you tomorrow
through the streets of Boston town.
I will be right there beside you,
if you but take a look around.
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The air was close, but it would not rain
The day I died.
And smog enshrouded Gotham town
The day I died..
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The stubborn little Maple leaf

held on when all its fellows fled.
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To others, she appeared so fair,
Her blonde hair long and silky
Her eyes intelligent and kind,
her complexion clear and milky.
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In the Company of Heroes

The 506th is aging
Passing into history
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I’d worked the previous night, the tenth,
programing applications.
When the alarm went off at four A.M.
I hit snooze- no hesitation.
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